"The young herr speaks like a gentleman Irlandais who was with me last year. He made John Bulls, his friend said."

"Irish bulls, Melchior," said Dale, smiling.

"Ah, yes, the herr is right, they were Irish bulls; but I do not quite know. Are you ready?"

"Yes," said Dale, preparing to descend the precipitous piece.

"Better keep your face to the rock here, herr. Go on. Take hold here, young friend. That's it. The rope just touching, and the hands ready to tighten at the slightest slip. Confidence, herr. But I need not speak. You can climb."

Dale reached the ledge below without a slip, unfastened the end of the rope, and Melchior began to attach it to Saxe.

"But, I say," cried the latter, "how can you get down?"

"There?" said the guide, with a little laugh. "Oh, that is not hard climbing: I can easily get down there."

"I wish I could without thinking it was terrible," said Saxe to himself, as he prepared in turn to descend, for in spite of the confidence given by the rope about his chest, he found himself fancying that if the knot came undone by the jerk he should give it if he slipped from one of those awkward pieces of stone, he would go on falling and bounding from rock to rock till he lay bruised and cut, perhaps killed, at the bottom of the mountain.

"It's no good to stop thinking about it," he muttered; and lowering himself down, he began to descend steadily, with the feeling of dread pa.s.sing off directly he had started; for the excitement of the work, and the energy that he had to bring to bear in lowering himself from ledge to ledge, kept him too busy to think of anything but the task in hand; so that, in what seemed to be an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time, he was standing beside Dale.

Then came a warning cry from Melchior, who threw down his end of the rope, and directly after began to descend with an ease that robbed his task of all aspect of danger. Every movement was so quietly and easily made, there was such an elasticity of muscle and absence of strain, that before the man was half down, both Dale and Saxe were wondering how they could have thought so much of the task, and on Melchior joining them, and after descending a little farther, roping them for other steep bits, they went on easily and well.

And now for about a couple of hours Melchior took them on rapidly down and down and in and out among bluffs and mountain spurs which he seemed to know by heart, though to those with him the place grew more perplexing at every turn. There was a gloomy look, too, now, in the depths of the various gorges, which told of the coming of evening, though the various peaks were blazing with orange and gold, and a refulgent hue overspread the western sky.

"Is it much farther?" said Saxe at last. "I am getting so hungry, I can hardly get one leg before the other."

"Farther!" said Melchior, smiling. "Do you not see? Up there to the right is the foot of the glacier; there is the hill from which you saw the top, and yonder is the patch of forest. Andregg's chalet is just below."

"I am glad!" cried Saxe. "I thought I was hungry, but it's tired I am.

I shall be too weary to eat."

"Oh no!" said Melchior. "The young herr will eat, and then he will sleep as we sleep here in these mountains, and wake in the morning ready for another day. The herr still wants to hunt for crystals?" he added, glancing at Dale.

"Yes; if you can take me to them," said the latter eagerly.

"I will try, herr; but they have to be sought in the highest solitudes, on the edge of the precipices, where it is too steep for the snow to stay, and they say that there are spirits and evil demons guarding the caverns where they lie."

"And do you believe them?" said Saxe st.u.r.dily.

"The young herr shall see," replied the guide. "Ah! there is Andregg.

The cows have just been brought home, and here come the goats. I heard the cry in the mountains. We shall have bread and milk and cheese, if we have nothing else. Do I believe that about the demons who guard the crystal caves?" he continued thoughtfully. "Well, the young herr shall see. Hoi! hola, Andregg! I bring you friends!" he shouted to a grey-haired man standing in the evening twilight, which was declining fast, just outside the plain brown pine-wood chalet, with two women and a boy leisurely milking cows and goats.

"The herrs are welcome," said the man gravely. "It has been fine among the mountains to-day. I was fearing we should have a storm."

CHAPTER FIVE.

STRANGE QUARTERS.

Milk, bread, b.u.t.ter and cheese in the rough pine verandah, seated on a homely bench, with the soft pleasant smell of cows from beneath, and the melodious chiming tinkle of many sweet-toned bells--not the wretched tin or iron jangling affairs secured to sheep or kine in England, but tuneful, well-made bells, carefully strapped to the necks of the cattle, and evidently appreciated by the wearers, several of which stood about, gently swaying their heads, blinking their great soft eyes, ruminating, and waiting their turn with the brawny milkmaid, who rose from her crouching position from time to time, taking her one-legged stool with her, fastened on and projecting like a peculiar tail.

The light was dying out fast on the peaks around, and they ceased to flash and glow, to become pale and grey, and then ghastly, cold and strange, as the little party sat enjoying the simple meal and the calm and rest of the peaceful scene. Everything around was so still that there was hardly a murmur in the pines; only the hushed roar of the restless river, but subdued now, for its waters were shrinking fast from the failure of the supply; for the many thousand trickling rivulets of melting snow, born of the hot sunshine of the day, were now being frozen up hard.

The weary feeling that stole over Saxe was very pleasant as he eat there, with his back against the rough pine boards of the chalet, watching the shadows darkening in the valley, and the falls grow less and less distinct, while a conversation, which did not trouble him, went on close by his elbow.

"I think I have pretty well explained what I want, Melchior," Dale was saying. "I have seen a few specimens of the crystals found up in the mountains, and I am convinced that far finer pieces are to be obtained in the higher parts that have not yet been explored."

The guide was silent for a few minutes as he sat now smoking his pipe.

"The herr is right," he said at last. "I have often seen places where, such treasures may be found. But you are a stranger--I am a Swiss. Is it right that I should help you?"

"When I tell you that I am moved by no ideas of greed, but solely as a discoverer, and that, as I have before said, your country would be the richer for my find, you ought to be satisfied."

"I should be, herr, only that I do not quite like the secrecy of your movements. It is not like anything I have done before, and it troubles me to think that I ought not to tell anybody the object of our excursions."

"Tell any curious people that we are making ascents because I am studying the mountains. It will be the truth; for, understand me, I am not going alone for this search. I want to find out more concerning the forming of the glaciers, and the gathering of storms on the mountains.

There are endless discoveries to be made, and ascents to be attempted.

You will show me mountains that have not yet been climbed."

"I will show the herr all he wishes, and keep his counsel loyally," said Melchior. "No one shall know anything about our search. Look, herr: the Alpen glow!"

A slight rustling sound beneath the verandah had just taken Saxe's attention, and he was wondering whether any one was in the low stone cowhouse over which the chalet was built--from the economical ideas of the people, who make one roof do for both places, and give to their cattle an especially warm winter house--when the guide's words roused him from his drowsy state, and he started up to gaze at the rather rare phenomenon before him.

A short time before the various mountain peaks had stood up, dimly-seen, shadowy grey and strange, the more distant dying out in the gathering gloom. Now it was as if a sudden return of the golden sunset had thrown them up again, glowing with light and colour, but with a softness and delicacy that was beautiful in the extreme.

"All that's bright must fade," said Dale, with a sigh. "I wonder what our English friends would say to that, Saxe!"

"What I do,--that it's lovely. Is it like this every night?"

"No," replied Melchior, refilling his pipe; "it is only at times. Some say it means storms in the mountains; some that it is to be fine weather."

"And what do you say, Melchior?" asked Dale.

"I say nothing, herr. What can a man who knows the mountains say, but that this is a place of change? Down here in the valley it has been a soft bright summer day, whilst up yonder in the mountains storm and snow have raged, and the icy winds have frozen men to death. Another day I have left the wind howling and the rain beating and the great black clouds hanging low; and in an hour or two I have climbed up to sunshine, warmth and peace."

"But you mountaineers know a great deal about the weather and its changes."

"A little, herr," said the guide, smiling--"not a great deal. It is beyond us. We know by the clouds and mists high above the mountains when it is safe to go and when to stay; for if we see long-drawn and rugged clouds hanging about the points and trailing down the cols and over each icy grat, we know there is a tempest raging and we do not go.

There is not much wisdom in that. It is very simple, and--Look! the young herr is fast asleep. Poor boy!--it has been a tiring day. Shall we go to rest?"

"Yes," said Dale, laying his hand on Saxe's shoulder. "Come, boy, rouse up and let's go to bed."

"Eh? What? Where? Sliding down and--Did you speak, Mr Dale?" said Saxe, after starting up and babbling excitedly for a moment or two, just fresh from his dreams.

"Wake up! I'm going to bed."

"Wake up, of course," said Saxe tetchily. "Mustn't a--?"